


One Little Dare (could topple the world)

by AnnaStachia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Boys Kissing, Claude gets more than he bargained for, Claude thinks too much, Dimitri doesn't know what he's getting into, Hilda thinks shes crafty, M/M, More tags to be added, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Romance, friendship exploration, kinda???, mentions of others - Freeform, mild spoilers thus far, spoilers for blue lions stuff, spoilers for golden deer stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-28 01:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20770034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaStachia/pseuds/AnnaStachia
Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, Hilda dares Claude to kiss a certain Blue Lion leader. Things don't quite go as expected. Dancing around each other the boys have to figure out their own feelings, each other, and themselves, all the while the world falls apart in the background.---  ----Ch 3.A lot of what he's spent years burying deep inside is beginning to leak through the cracks Claude has made in his carefully crafted armor.And there's a part of him that doesn't want to patch it up.





	1. Truth or Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Say you had to accompany Alois or Seteth to some kind of shindig. Who do you go with, and why?” The face Hilda makes is exactly what he was hoping for and he grins.
> 
> “What kind of shindig are we talking here? Like, is this a business or political gathering? A date to a romantic ball? Father-daughter dance?”
> 
> Claude shrugs, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Take your pick. Or how ‘bout all of them?”

"Truth," Hilda sing-songs, skipping along a short ledge just past the dormitories. 

Claude watches as for the third time since he’ hopped up there she nearly loses her balance, but manages to catch herself at the last second. It’s almost a minor miracle really, but he sets aside his inner admiration to go over the litany of questions he could ask her. 

Some are easily dismissed as dreadfully curious as he is. They have developed some unspoken rule to not get too deep or personal. It was the tone they set when they started this game and Claude isn’t going to be the first one to break it. He’s grateful for it anyway, because it keeps him from having to say too much, from having to shut Hilda down. 

So he doesn’t ask her her deepest, darkest secret and instead rubs his chin thoughtfully, “Hmmm. Say you had to accompany Alois or Seteth to some kind of shindig. Who do you go with, and why?”

The face Hilda makes is exactly what he was hoping for and he grins. She then hums, stepping over an errant tea cup left from the dining hall. Strangely common findings outside the dormitories. Almost like the students are too lazy to walk it back to the kitchen, so they leave it outside and wait for someone to pick it up. That someone is usually Cyril. 

“What kind of shindig are we talking here? Like, is this a business or political gathering? A date to a romantic ball? Father-daughter dance?”

Claude shrugs, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Take your pick. Or how ‘bout all of them?”

She rolls her eyes and shoots him an accusatory look. He reads it loud and clear. She knows he’s overreaching, but she’s going to answer him anyway. This is just a warning that he shouldn’t push his luck. 

“I think,” she starts, putting her arms out to catch her balance once more, “For a political event I’d have to take Seteth. He’s a skilled diplomat, plus showing up with the archbishop’s right hand is sure to win me major brownie points with anyone there. And then all the conversation will probably revolve around the church. And what does little old me know about church affairs? So it’s best if I just leave that to him and maybe go find some desserts.”

She grins imagining abandoning Seteth to politics while she found something fun to do. “But a father-daughter dance would absolutely be Alois. For one he’s got the whole goofy dad thing down. I mean, his jokes can only be described as dad jokes. Plus I imagine Seteth is one of those overprotective fathers. The way he acts with Flayn. And I don’t exactly need any more overprotective men in my life.”

As usual he notes the distant look on her face and intentional dismissiveness when she even alludes to her brother. And as per their unspoken agreement he doesn’t poke the bear. Not this time, not yet. That’s definitely a bear he plans to poke one day though. 

Instead he says, “So that means you’re taking Alois to the romantic event then?” And he’s rewarded with her blanched expression once more. 

“You said I get to pick, so I did.”

“Alright, fair enough.” He chuckles.

A few weeks ago Leonie had called the both of them out on being lazy and slacking on their training. It came as no surprise about Hilda since she work hard at promoting that exact image, and would much rather be lazy. Still she had feigned overdramatic offense, that Leonie was having none of. As much as Claude liked to let people believe he was a slacker, he knew he wasn’t, so he had actually been mildly put off at the accusation. But when he actually stopped to think about it, he couldn’t say Leonie was wrong either. 

Claude isn’t a slacker, but his priorities had shifted. Enough that he might be willing to admit that he’d let his physical fitness fall to the wayside of his intellectual pursuits. It didn’t matter in the long run, because Leonie had managed to rope the new professor into the discussion, with a power move Claude could only applaud. Professor Byleth might not be their instructor, but her approval as the new and unknown factor in the monastery was something Claude wasn’t about to waste. 

So with great reluctance he and Hilda had agreed to exercise and train more. That had been how these now weekly excursions had begun. Hilda, still not keen on overworking herself like the rest of the Golden Deer seemed intent to do, suggested weekly walks around the monastery. After all the grounds were enormous, and one could spend a whole day just exploring it. 

In retrospect, he wondered if she had chosen those words on purpose. Exploring. He had agreed to the idea instantly as it would get Leonie, and maybe the new teacher off their backs, and give him an excuse to wander the church grounds. Hilda had nailed him hook, line, and sinker with just that one word.

Now every Saturday afternoon they take lunch, then stroll around Garagg Mach playing idle games like I Spy, Twenty Questions, and their favorite, Truth or Dare. It’s come to a point where Claude actually looks forward to spending this time with her. In just short of two moons, he’s already learned so much about her as they both skirt around discussing anything serious, and he’s pretty sure she’s picked up on plenty about him as well. 

They at least know each other well enough to be able to share meaningful looks that don’t need words because they know exactly what they’re trying to convey. Claude can’t recall the last time he’s ever had something like that, or if he ever had. He doesn’t think so. 

“Your turn,” she reminds him, as he had fallen silent. 

That’s not too unusual. The monastery is a big place, and sometimes they walk in comfortable silence. But Hilda isn’t made for silent friendships, and the game always continues. 

“Dare,” he says with a small shrug, and Hilda rolls her eyes. He almost always picks dare. There’s still too many things he’d rather not even skirt around, and Hilda’s far too perceptive. 

Humming once again Hilda gazes off ahead of her, trying to come up with a good dare. The sun is just beginning to se, casting a golden haze around the church as the shadows grow. The companionable silence surrounds them once more, and Claude lets his thoughts slide to the church and all the secret labyrinths he imagines are hiding behind its ancient stone walls. 

She doesn’t let him get too sidetracked, reaching out and smacking his arm. He’s about to protest when he sees a certain lion prince headed their direction, probably coming from the training grounds. 

“Oh, I know….” the mischievous drawl in Hilda’s voice makes Claude both proud and terrified for whatever she’s come up with. 

“I dare you…. To kiss the Blue Lion leader!”

Claude’s not the type to gape, but he’s pretty sure he’s doing just that at this moment. There were a lot of stupid things HIlda could have said, yet somehow this is the stupidest. It’s so juvenile! And cliche! Yet still so utterly ridiculous. That sense of pride is growing as he can practically feel the smug radiating from her smirk. It’s exactly the kind of move he would have pulled on someone else just to see their reactions. 

“Oh come on, Hilda, you can do better than this.” He tries to save face, putting on his practiced grin. 

“Nah,” is her only response, and for a rare moment he finds himself searching for words. 

“Oh please, you’re not serious. You want me to plant one on His Seriousness over there?”

Hilda shrugs with an innocent nonchalance Claude himself has used a number of times. “That’s up to you, fearless leader. But you know the penalty for refusal. I’m on weeding duty next week, so I’d be glad to have someone lift that weight from my shoulders.”

He groans, remembering the terms to their game. Refusal to answer a question or complete a dare results in doing the other’s chores the next week. Glancing at the approaching prince he sighs. There are certainly worse things than laying one on Dimitri he supposes. It’s not like those piercing eyes, golden locks, or strong arms have gotten past Claude. 

This is a terrible idea, he thinks as he resolves to do it. Shooting a look at Hilda that she gleefully understands as “watch me,” he strides forward to intercept Dimitri. 

“Hey, Your Princeliness, fancy meeting you out here.” He wears his best patented smile.

“Claude,” Dimitri greets him in the simplest of fashions. 

“Getting in some extra training?”

“Well, you can never have enough practice.” Dimitri looks as though he would rather walk away, but is too polite to do so. That polite attitude is going to get him in trouble someday, something Edelgard is constantly trying to tell him.

“If you can never have enough practice, yet practice makes perfect as they say, then it stands to reason perfection can never be reached. Sounds exhausting if you ask me.” Claude mock yawns as if to prove his point. 

“I guess if perfection is what you’re striving for, then mayhaps.”

He curses his insatiable curiosity at that statement. “So what is it you’re striving for, Your Highness, if not perfection?”

Something flickers in Dimitri’s expression, something Claude can’t read. It’s subtle, a downward twist of his mouth, his gaze moving to something that’s not there, his entire body tensing,

A silent moment stretches between them and Claude realizes he’s not going to get an answer, or a truthful one at any rate. So he decides it’s best to break to moment. He came over here for a reason after all. 

Leaning up, he peers at Dimitri’s face, “You know, Your Princeliness, I think you’ve got something on your face.”

Dimitri blinks, trying to lean away from the sudden proximity, but Claude only leans closer. “Yeah, it’s right--” he lifts a hand as if he’s going to wipe a smudge off the prince’s face, but Dimitri raises a hand to do the same. Claude catches his hand, trying not to roll his eyes. 

“I don’t….” Dimitri starts, then stops utterly confused.

“Let me,” Claude says invitingly. 

Dimitri’s only warning that something is not quite what it seems here is the wink Claude gives him right before he closes the distance and presses his lips to his. 

For a moment it’s like everything stops. Time for one, but especially Dimitri who goes completely still. Until he isn’t.

~ ~ ~ ~

Dimitri isn’t expecting Claude to kiss him. He isn’t expecting anything really when the other house leader approached him, but kissing wasn’t even on the extended list of possibilities. So when Claude does press his lips to his his mind goes completely blank. Everything stops, and for a moment all that exists is the feeling of Claude’s lips on his and the pounding of his heart. 

And then it’s as if something in him awakens. A primal need once buried deep down now flowing to the surface. It’s wild and urgent, a passion Dimitri hasn’t felt since the Western Rebellion. The beast is awake, and it’s hungry. 

Mind still in a daze, Dimitri acts on pure instinct, grabbing hold of a fistful of fabric, and yanking Claude closer. The other boy makes a noise of protest, but he doesn’t even hear it, and Claude doesn’t actually try to pull away. He bites at Claude’s lip, it’s not gentle, but he doesn’t break skin. Claude responds in turn, opening his mouth to him. If he were more cognitive he might have noticed this as an attempt at being playful, but all Dimitri can think of is how much he wants this, how much he needs this. And he grows more insistent.

It’s the need for air that finally forces them apart, Claude having to forcefully pull himself away. Dimitri tries to follow, but ends up gulping in his own breath, and remembering that breathing is a necessity of living. How inconvenient. With each breath a little more of himself returns and he slowly realizes what just transpired with embarrassed horror. 

Claude is watching him, cheeks flushed, but there’s a note of concern in his eyes, and Dimitri stares at the ground, hand falling away from the other boy’s uniform. He puts a little more space between them, and feels it immediately as the cold replaces where Claude’s warm body hand been against his own. Something stirs in him, in his chest, and he wants to pull Claude close again.

He doesn’t, chancing a look at the Golden Deer leader. Is Claude mad, bothered? Is he still concerned? What if he wants to kiss Dimitri again? What if Dimitri wants him to? He immediately shoves that thought back down. Claude is none of those things anyway, when Dimitri meets his gaze. He’s looking up at the darkening sky, his usual mask back in place. Suddenly and furiously Dimitri hates that all too affable facade Claude wears. He forces that down too though. All of these emotions and urges are better left buried where no one has to see them. 

Claude opens his mouth to say something, but Dimitri doesn’t want to hear it. He doesn’t want to hear Claude make some joke or dismiss this whole thing with an off handed comment.

So he speaks first. “Excuse me, I must be getting ready for dinner.”

He pushes past Claude, all but sprinting for the dorm stairwell, only barely registering Hilda as he passes. He’ll have to consider that later. For now all he wants is to suffocate himself with his pillow in shame.

~ ~ ~ ~

Claude watches Dimiri go with mild alarm and confusion. He hates when he can’t quite put his finger on something, and everything that just happened qualified in that category now. At most he had expected the prince to shove him away and admonish him for that type of behavior. At best in his most wishful thinking he hoped Dimitri would return the kiss, but expected it would be brief and mostly chaste. He’d not been counting on coming out of the whole affair needing a cold bath. 

“Wow,” Hilda says sidling up to him, once Dimitri is out of sight. 

“You’re telling me,” he mutters. His lips feel swollen, though he’s almost certain that is just his imagination. He keeps trying not to run his tongue over them constantly. 

“You enjoyed that didn’t you?” She eyes him with that all too keen look. 

“Ah-uh,” He shakes his head, hitting her with his own knowing stare. “I did my dare, Lady Goneril, it’s your turn. If you want a truth from me, you’ll have to wait.”

Giggling behind one hand, Hilda pats his arm with her other. “Oh, it’s fine. I already know. That Lion Prince is going to be in your dreams tonight, I’d wager.”

Claude shoves her hand away with an irritated frown. “Oh please,” is all he says.

Hilda doesn’t tease him again. Not with her words anyway. But the looks she shoots him are more than enough to make him almost regret going through with it. Almost. She isn’t wrong though. He is going to be thinking about that kiss for some time. 

~ ~ ~ ~

Dimitri is not at dinner. Word around the Blue Lion’s table is that he is feeling under the weather. At least that was all the explanation Dedue had gotten from him. 

No one notices the all too smug expression on Hilda’s face as she sips her tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaa! 
> 
> Hello, and welcome to this fic, and the world known as AnnaStachia doesn't know how to write anything short and simple. This started off as just imagining different instances of these two dumb boys kissing, and somewhere along the way (future chapters) plot happened. Now it's more of a dumb boys kiss while also exploring their feelings, and also learning to make friends, and also the plot happens in the background. 
> 
> I'm also going to apologize right now, because I can't write make outs to save my life. Everything I write always just sounds so bad to me. In a story about makeouts that pretty difficult. I hope it's passable though. 
> 
> Anyway, I love these two dumb boys, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. There are lots more to come. I have a few written, and more planned out. I'm hoping to update this story every week. I'd love to hear your comments!


	2. Midnight Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your Highness," Dedue begins, "One might think that you are trying to avoid something."
> 
> Heat rises in Dimitri's cheeks as he realizes just what Dedue is talking about. The thing is, he's not wrong. Dimitri is absolutely avoiding something: Claude Von Riegan

“You’re Highness,” Dedue begins, keeping half a pace behind Dimitri as usual, “Might I express a mild concern?”

“Of course.” Dimitri responds, turning his head as usual to talk with his friend on more even terms. It’s a cycle the prince hasn’t been able to find a way out of yet, much to his own consternation. “You can always come to me with your troubles,” he adds with a gentle, hopefully encouraging smile. 

“It’s more concerning your own behavior.” Dedue admits.

Dimitri’s brow furrows. He can’t think of anything he’s done recently to warrant any concern. Perhaps Dedue is worried about the extra training he’s been doing. He has been spending almost all his free time in the training hall lately. Between the issues with the Western Church and his ghosts being louder than usual the training helps him focus. He has also made it a point to not overdo it too, for precisely this reason. 

He gives Dedue a perplexed look, stopping just short of the reception hall. “My behavior.”

“Yes. I’ve noticed you have changed some of your routines, as of late. Shifting your usual training times, avoiding the library, taking the long way to the dining hall or the market. More than once I have seen you nearly about face and go a different direction entirely. One might think you were trying to avoid something.”

Heat rises in Dimitri’s cheeks as he realizes just what Dedue is talking about. The thing is, he’s not wrong. Dimitri is absolutely avoiding something: Claude Von Riegan. After what happened last week, Dimitri has no idea how to interact with the Golden Deer head. Propriety would dictate that they go on as if nothing ever happened and forget all about it. Claude has never been one for propriety and Dimitri can’t get it out of his head.

That might be the worst part. When his thoughts aren’t taken up by training, school, or the nightmares of his past, they are of Claude. Claude kissing him, Claude’s hands on him. Claude hadn’t even put his hands on him, but Dimitri’s imagined it. It’s far too much, and far too inappropriate, and Dimitri has no idea how to handle it. And so he’s been avoiding it.

But now he has no idea how to answer Dedue and he’s quite certain his face must be red as a tomato. 

Thankfully, for once, the other’s unfaltering loyalty works out in his favor as Dedue frowns. “If it’s something you don’t wish to discuss, Your Highness, please don’t feel obligated. I was just somewhat concerned.”

Dimitri takes the out as much as he feels guilty for doing so. “I appreciate your concern, but I promise you, it’s nothing to worry about.”

Dedue nods dutifully and then steps forward to hold the door open for his prince. Dimitri steps through, thoughts lingering on Claude. 

~ ~ ~ ~

The monastery isn’t as empty at night as Claude wishes it were. Sure most people have turned in for a good night’s rest, but monks and knights are stationed on guard duty throughout the night. It makes sense given how much of value is in the church, person and items alike. All the kushy nobles can sleep well knowing their children are well guarded. It just makes sneaking around much more difficult. 

It’s not like students are even confined to their rooms after hours. The training hall is open, and the library is available at all hours. Claude once caught their new professor fishing in the middle of the night, though he’s almost certain that’s against the rules. The places he can after hours are extremely limited, and those limits don’t include anywhere he wants to explore. 

The cathedral is perhaps one of the most guarded areas, and Claude’s been keeping track of their rotation. He has a theory that there is a secret passage behind one of the saints statues, but there’s always a priest in the room during the day. If he can sneak in at night, he might be able to investigate it properly. 

And so if anyone asks he’s just out for a late night stroll, enjoying the stars. It’s a perfect night for it too, the rain having let up a couple days ago, and the skie is clearing. It almost makes him want to plop right down in the grass and find his favorite constellations until he falls asleep. Though last time he fell asleep outside he had to listen to a thirty minute lecture from Lorenz. 

Still some things are worth an annoying lecture and a beautiful night sky is usually one of them. He has other plans, even if that doesn’t stop him from gazing into the endless glittering void as he meanders his way toward the cathedral. 

Lysithea is the one who usually scolds him for not watching where he’s walking (why must so many people lecture him?) and he hears her voice in his head as he nearly collides with someone. A strong hand grasps his shoulder as he meets a familiar blue gaze. 

“Oh hey, Your Princeliness. You’re up late.”

“Oh, um, Claude.” Dimitri’s brow furrows as he fumbles for something to say. “So are you…. It would seem,” he finishes lamely. 

Claude raises his own eyebrow as the prince redirects his gaze. He’s aware Dimitri has been avoiding him, and he figured he would give him his space. With a glance back up at the stars, Claude wonders if this is maybe Goddess intervention. He really should let Dimitri be on his way, so he can get down to business, but the blush spreading across the prince’s face is almost too much to resist. 

Dimitri’s hand hasn’t fallen away from his shoulder yet, and Claude shifts a little closer. He wonders vaguely, if this is perhaps too mean, but maybe the prince shouldn’t make himself so easy to tease. It’s downright adorable. He quashes the thought, just as soon as it happens. 

“Looking for a late night tryst, Your Royalness?” he follows it up with a wink, and a teasing grin. 

Dimitri swallows, opens his mouth, swallows again. It’s dark, but Claude can see the look in his eyes shift. Startled and uncertainty change into a predatory hunger. He thinks that under the right circumstances this could be a very dangerous man, but he is fairly sure that those circumstances don’t involve him, and they don’t involve this. 

And there is definitely a ‘this’, Claude realizes as well. Whatever it might be, there’s something, and maybe the prince hasn’t been avoiding him out of embarrassment. _What did I start,_ he wonders.

“No.” Dimitri finally gets out with a frown. “I’m training.” He gives Claude a once over, as if he might be contemplating different ideas than simple training.

Now is his chance to walk away. He might still have time to sneak into the cathedral, though it would be cutting it close. He could just let Dimitri know and continue with his night. But the memory of Dimitri’s lips fervent against his own is still sharp in his mind. It had been like the prince had woken up, had sprouted from his cocoon into something new and wild. Claude wants to press those buttons and watch the prince come alive again. 

“By yourself?” he asks, and the decision is made. He can investigate the cathedral anytime. Who knows how long this wild abandon with Dimitri would last. 

“That was the plan.”

“Well hey, plans can change.” Claude shoots him another wink. Normally he wouldn’t figure Dimitri the type to pick up on subtle innuendo, but now might be different. 

Except that he would have been right as normal. Taking a deep breath, and straightening up Dimitri says, “Swords then. First person to score three points against the other wins.” Without waiting for an answer he turns and stalks toward the training grounds. 

Blinking Claude watches him go, running a hand a hand through his hair. “What did I get myself into?” he mutters before following. 

~ ~ ~ ~

He’d made some witty remark when they had grabbed the training swords about going easy on him. It had been a joke, and he had followed it up with another wink for good measure. He wishes now he had paid more attention to that dangerous gleam still in his eyes, as he raises the sword to just barely block another ruthless swing. The force of it reverberates through his grip, and he struggles not to drop the weapon. 

Neither of them were especially skilled with swords, though arguably they both should be. Most lords of their station should be able to at least wield the blade with a flourish, or so Lorenz always claims. Dimitri wields the sword in much the same way he did the lance, and his brute strength only adds to the momentum of his swings. Already Dimitri has gotten one good hit on his side, and his ribs are going be sorely bruised. All Claude can do is block his blows and hope not to drop the sword. 

Dimitri’s attack is relentless, and Claude wonders if he even remembers that he’s fighting another person. That hunger and need from before seems to be driving him now, only this time they are fighting instead of lip locked. Claude can’t quite figure out what that means and doesn’t have much time to try as he ducks under a high swing, and catches the downswing on the training blade. He’s pretty sure his wrists are beginning to feel numb, but he’s also pretty sure that if he drops the weapon Dimitri’s is going to come down on him unforgiving. 

Block, block, duck, block, block, spin, block, sidestep, wham! A blow just above his knee nearly sends him sprawling to the floor. He manages to catch himself on the wall behind him and bring the sword up intercept a hit that likely would have broken his arm had it connected. Only then does he realize his mistake as he stares at Dimitri, his back against the wall. 

“Am I allowed to say ‘uncle’?” he asks trying to laugh it off, to catch his attention. He’s breathing far too hard, and the pain in his knee throbs. 

There is a flicker of recognition in Dimitri’s eyes as if he is actually remembering that Claude is there. He pulls the sword away, letting it fall to the floor. Before Claude can breathe a sigh of relief he’s pushed back against the wall once more as Dimitri crushes his lips against his. 

It’s not as sexy as Claude had been initially hoping, imagining. Most of the tension had been lost in the assault on his person. For him anyway. He isn’t sure if there’s a difference for Dimitri, and maybe that’s something he should address at some point. Even if it isn’t what he had been going for, Claude isn’t passing this up, and he returns the kiss much more prepared for the intensity this time. 

This time they don’t stop with the need to breathe. They gulp in air between kisses as needed and otherwise continue on. Dimitri’ pressed up against him, keeping him firmly pinned to the wall. His hands have found their way to Claude’s hips, gripping him tightly.

Claude has worked his hands up, and is trying to guide Dimitri away from his mouth and toward his neck. The prince is surprisingly compliant, trailing wet kisses and nips down his jaw along the way. His teeth grazing Claude’s skin is rough, but not unpleasant. When Dimitri’s tongue finds that sensitive spot just above his collar bone, Claude leans his head back with a groan. 

Dimitri pauses, peeking up at him, relishing in the sight. “I want to see you undone,” he murmurs, nuzzling under his jaw, and grazing his teeth along it. 

That comment does manage to bring Claude back to his senses and set off alarm bells. Claude doesn’t do undone, he undoes others. 

With great reluctance he pushes at Dimitri’s shoulders. At first the prince doesn’t move, murmuring a protest and nipping at his throat again. Letting his eyes close for a moment Claude pushes against him once more. 

“We might want to stop before we get carried away, Your Beastliness.”

Though he doesn’t pull back, Dimitri does pause. “What?” he says against his skin.

With a sigh Claude reaches up to run his fingers through blonde hair, “We’re getting carried away, Your Highness.”

He actually feels the tension drain out of Dimitri as whatever had overtaken him begins to fade. There’s a moment where the prince is just draped against him, head on his shoulder while Claude runs his fingers through his hair. It feels like a moment of peace. It’s a moment that doesn’t last long as Dimitri comes back to himself and his body is taken by a different kind of tension. 

He goes completely rigid against Claude and then pulls back in a sudden motion. Claude doesn’t let him go far, keeping a hand on his back.

“Claude! Good Goddess.” His face begins to go red. “I’m not sure I have enough apologies to offer for my…. My… abhorrent behavior!” He tries to pull back again, but Claude keeps him there, especially after those words. 

“No apologies necessary. I’m not exactly complaining here.”

Dimitri frowns, brows furrowing, “No, I suppose you’re not.”

“I mean, this is kinda what I was going for when I offered to train with you. I just got a little more than I bargained for. Oh, I will accept your apologies for my poor, bruised ribs though.”

With another briefly horrified expression, Dimitri seems as if he’s going to reach for Claude’ side, but stops at the last second letting his hand drop. “I _do_ apologize. I tend to get… caught up in my training.”

Claude chuckles, “You tend to get caught up in a lot of things.”

By the grimace on Dimitri’s face, and the way he looks away, Claude realizes this was the wrong thing to say. So he shrugs casually, “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine, you’re fine, I hope. All things considered, not a bad way to spend my night.” he winks hoping it might lighten the mood a little. 

This time when Dimitri steps back, Claude lets him. “I suppose I should let you go. You should ice some of those hits, so they don’t swell.”

Claude takes a small measure of delight in the blush across Dimitri’s face. “Good advice. Teach is gonna give me hell if I try to dodge out of practice. Again. Oh, and Your Highness?”

The prince looks up at him, “I hope you’ll stop avoiding me now.”

With one more wink Claude is striding out of the training hall, trying not to limp too much on his bruised knee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! I lost my laptop charger for a while, but I have it again. So here's the second chapter! Disaster!Dimitri and Scheming!Claude have a midnight rendezvous in the training grounds. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! The next chapter should be up in another few days since I was late on this one. Thoughts and comments always appreciated. Thank you for reading!


	3. Late night research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of what he's spent years burying deep inside is beginning to leak through the cracks Claude has made in his carefully crafted armor. 
> 
> And there's a part of him that doesn't want to patch it up.

To say Claude is distracted over the next several days would almost be an understatement. Almost. There’s still plenty happening around the monastery for him to keep an eye on. It’s just that his mind tends to wander in the direction of a certain lion prince more often than not these days. 

When he met Dimitri he hadn’t thought the prince would be all that interesting outside the usefulness of his station. As he’s gotten to know the other house leaders, he figured Dimitri would likely be his best ally in accomplishing his goals, at least over Edelgard who seems to live in her own world. But now, the prince is proving far more fascinating. 

Despite the mild knot of unease he feels, he wants to explore this wild side of Dimitri, who is usually so polite and controlled. Is this the real Dimitri, behind the princely mask? Or is it simply repressed urges manifesting? And can he find a way to undo the prince before he undoes him? That’s the real question. 

He’s managed to fool the rest of his house that his recent daydreaming is just his usual aloof scheming, but he’s learning that he can’t fool Hilda as easily anymore. He should probably be concerned about that. 

“Is it a person?” Hilda hums as they stroll through the courtyard on their weekly excursion. 

“Is what a person?” he frowns at her. 

“We’re playing twenty questions!” she informs him. 

Claude tries to think if he missed any conversation while lost in his thoughts, but going over the last several minutes he comes up empty. “Since when?”

“Since I decided.” Hilda’s tone brooks no room for argument and Claude realizes that this must be what’s it’s like to have a little sister. “So,” she starts again, “Is it a person?”

Oh…. Now he’s catching on. She really is too clever for her own good sometimes. Somehow he has a feeling she already knows exactly what’s been on his mind. It’s a little unsettling being seen through so easily, but he can’t help but feel a budding sense of pride. Maybe Hilda can turn out to be his protoge. Wouldn’t it be funny if he went home with the youngest Goneril on his side?

“It’s a person,” he admits, lacing his hands behind his head. Maybe he will cultivate this friendship. He does enjoy their walks, and having someone to confide in on some things can’t be the worst idea. Edelgard has Hubert Von Creepy and Dimitri has Dedue What’s-A-Facial-Expression, so maybe he can have Hilda Everyone’s-My-Bitch.

~ ~ ~ ~

If Dedue was mildly concerned about him before he certainly must be now. Normally Dimitri would compartmentalize and prioritize his responsibilities over his emotions, but that last run in with Claude has him re-examining those priorities. 

It’s the second time he’s lost control with the Golden Deer leader, and if he’s being honest with himself - and he’s really trying to be - he hardly remembers much of that last encounter. Nothing but that pressing need, that insatiable desire to…. To _have_ something. To dominate something. He can never put a finger on what the exact feeling is, but it’s ugly and often violent. 

And freeing.

A lot of what he’s spent years burying deep inside is beginning to leak through the cracks Claude has made in his carefully crafted armor, and there’s a part of him that doesn’t want to patch it up. The rush of adrenaline, the feel of another person against him, it’s a thrill he’s only ever been able to get on the battlefield. He feels alive, and for once he wants to explore it, instead of pushing it right back down. 

He spends almost three whole days coming to terms with what had happened in the training grounds. What he could remember doing, Claude’s apparent favorable reaction. It’s Claude that perplexes him the most. He should be finding ways to run from Dimitri, to hate the monster he is inside. Instead he’s invited Dimitri’s attention, even after seeing some of his worst qualities. 

Once he decides he can face the world without instant mortification he begins to seem somewhat more himself, if just notably more distracted. There’s still this moon’s investigation to worry about with the Goddess’ Rite of Passage swiftly approaching. They’re nearly exhausted all their leads however, and their main theory is under lock and key until the day of, so it’s mostly come down to being hyper-vigilant of any suspicious activity. 

And it’s left Dimitri with a ridiculous amount of time to let his mind wander as he and Dedue make their rounds. Often his thoughts will turn from fairly innocent kissing Claude in his dorm room to wild and pinning him to the training hall floor and making him beg. Usually he stops that line of thinking before it gets out of hand, and sometimes Dedue interrupts him with a comment. Were Dimitri more observant he might realize that often those comments were intentional of Dedue’s end. 

After a particularly bad day of his thoughts drifting to the mischievous house leader Dimitri decides some action may be in order. He and Claude had passed each other in the reception hall that morning and Claude had tossed him one of those winks that sent his mind reeling and his stomach twisting in knots. 

Trying to get through class had been a disaster and he hated the subtely disappointed looks the professor would give him when she caught him not paying attention. Even Ingrid had expressed her concern for him during lunch, and thankfully Dedue had been quick to put it to rest, all while shooting his prince curious looks. Maybe once Dimitri has this figured out he’ll talk to him. 

Everyone leaves him be at dinner for the most part. He thinks he might actually have Sylvain to thank for that. One look at Dimitri’s contemplative expression and the other boy is more than happy to occupy everyone’s attention by being extra annoying. It certainly keeps Ingrid and Annette distracted. 

Claude, he notes early on, is not at dinner and he finishes his meal quickly barely tasting it. He excuses himself from the group muttering something about work. It’s weak as far as excuses go, and he’s not really putting effort into it. His mind is elsewhere, and subterfuge has never been his wheelhouse. He doesn’t see the looks his classmates exchange as he hastily makes his exit. 

It doesn’t take as long as he thought it might to track Claude down. Despite how mysterious he liked to seem, the Alliance heir had his usual haunts and the library is one of them. Claude is sitting at a table a stack of books piled next to him, engrossed in one open before him. The library is otherwise empty. 

Dimitri realizes he hasn’t thought this through. Now what? He’s here, and Claude’s here, and…. And…. The image of just pushing the books aside and sitting on the table taking Claude’ chin in his hand and leaning down to capture him comes sharply into his mind. He has to remind himself that this is a library, and anyone could walk in at any time. It is then replaced with a scene of the two of them being admonished by Seteth as Lady Rhea looks on with disappointed judgement. 

That’s enough to keep him in check for now. He moves over the shelves of books idly scanning titles for something that catches his eye. Landing on one entitled “Adrestia’s Power Struggles” He’s read it before, shortly after it was published two years ago. An in depth look at the political structure in the Empire, how the insurrection came about, and it’s key figures. It had been an enlightening read once, tonight it would be something he doesn’t have to pay much thought to. 

Taking the book he goes and sits in the chair right next to Claude. It’s arguably in the other boy’s personal space and normally Dimitri wouldn’t dream of intruding, but for once he pushes down his polite leanings and opens the book to a random page. His arm brushes Claude’s as he rests it on the table. 

The other boy shifts, turning to glance at Dimitri who is staring at words that he’s not bothering to actually read.

“Well if it isn’t His Royal Highness. You know, I wasn’t actually sure you could read. Guess the rumors are wrong.”

Dimitri snorts, “Of course I can read. We can’t all be cooped up in here at all hours like some however.”

Claude chuckles,” Lion’s got teeth, has he?”

“Sharp enough to catch a deer.” he looks up in time to catch the surprise flash across Claude’s face, and smirks. He is a lion after all, and this deer is his prey. And like most cats he’s here to play with his food before devouring it. 

As usual Claude recovers quickly glancing over Dimitri’s reading material. “Empire politics, huh? Is this how you plan to woo her Imperial Sternliness?”

This must be deflection Dimitri thinks. A tactic he hasn’t been able to master, and one he’s usually not good at picking up on. Which means he must be doing something right. 

So instead of answering, because he doesn’t really have one, he follows Claude’s example. Leaning in the boy’s personal space even more to look at his stack of books. They all seem to be related to the church, it’s history, it’s architecture, a tourist guide. “Finally becoming devout?” he asks.

The grin that spreads across Claude’s face isn’t one he’s able to decipher but it does make his stomach flutter and that’s an entirely new sensation. 

“Actually,” Claude begins, turning to face him, “I was thinking about that assassination plot against the archbishop. It sounds like a pretty good distraction if you ask me, especially during a time when the monastery is particularly inundated with the publick, outsiders. So we beef up security around Lady Rhea and suddenly everything else is vulnerable. Especially with many of the knights still out dealing with the Western Church. I won’t even get into the convenient timing on that one.” He waves a hand.

“So then, if Rhea’s a distraction, what are these schemers really after? Of course there’s a number of possibilities. The church has a thousand year history, is home to many priceless artifacts, and unique oddities that can…. Am I boring you, Princeliness?”

Dimitri blinks, realizing that he had been zoning out in a way he usually does when Anette starts talking about Reason studies. He shakes his head, “No. It’s just, we came to this conclusion already. The professor is also convinced it’s a distraction, and after some investigation we’ve concluded it likely has something to do with the Goddess Rite Ceremony.”

Claude rests his chin in his hand, that grin still on his face. “Well look at you, you got it all figured out already. Color me impressed Your Highness.”

Dimitri represses a sigh. This sounds an awful lot like work, and he did not come here to work. He looks back at his own book with a frown wondering if he could even get his momentum back after that, or if the moment had been ruined and he should consider this a wash. Maybe he had misinterpreted everything altogether and this entire endeavor had been a mistake. 

He feels Claude bump his knee under the table. “What’s that face for?” he asks.

“Nothing.” His answer is curt.

He should leave. This had been a mistake and now he can feel the irritability building. The monster lurking behind the other monster, the one that should absolutely stay hidden from the rest of the world. He can head to the training grounds and work his frustrations out from there. 

“I’ll take lies for $500, Trivia Master,” Claude says in a sharp voice Dimitri has only heard a few times before. It’s his serious voice. Right now Dimitri hates it. “Does it have anything to do with your allergy to the other side of the table, maybe?”

“What?” He does turn his scowl on the Alliance heir now, daring him to continue with a glare. 

Claude does, seemingly ignoring the dangerous look in his gaze. “You came in here for a reason, right? I don’t think that reason is the Empire’s political troubles, because you definitely haven’t been reading that book. But you came and sat down right next to me. Not across from me, not one chair down, but right next to me. And immediately started flirting, I might add.”

Dimitri sneers as Claude lays it all out, almost not all that different from how he had layed out his earlier investigation. Only this time he’s not grinning, he’s staring at Dimitri evenly, reading him, studying him. Those shrewd green eyes trying to predict his thoughts and feelings. 

“Always so smart, Claude. Got it all figured out, have you?”

Claude sizes him up, calculating. “Not quite, but I’ve always been good at poking the bear. Just one question, Your Beastliness. Do you want to kill me right now? Or make out with me?”

Thought is not really a process that goes into his actions in this state. His sneer shifts into a predatory grin, all teeth. A lion’s grin. “I want to tear you apart.” His voice is hauntingly smooth as he reaches for his prey. 

He relishes the flash of fear behind the deer’s green eyes as he pulls him close by the fabric of his uniform. Sliding his tongue over his lips, he leans down and captures Claude’s mouth in his own. The deer is surprisingly receptive, opening up to him. He catches his bottom lip in his teeth and is rewarded with that tang of iron and an exhaled his from his prey. 

“Okay,” Claude starts between kisses, “I’m not,” Dimitri doesn’t let him talk long. He’s figured out the art of breathing as they go now, taking small pauses before diving back in. It’s these opportunities Claude uses to get his words out. “I’m not going… .. to fight you… .. but… ...we…. Can’t do this…. ..right… ...here.”

That’s true, a part of his brain thinks through the haze. He’d had a thought like that earlier, but it seems so far away and unimportant now. If they move, the deer might have a chance to get away, and while he might usually love a chase, he’d rather just claim his prize. 

Claude is insistent however, forcing Dimitri back when he doesn’t stop, “I mean it. I can’t get kicked out of the library. But I do know where we can go.”

Logic pushes its way through his immediate urges. He can’t get what he wants if they get caught, so he pulls away to glare suspiciously. Claude winks at him, and his scowl almost shifts into a pout. The prey isn’t supposed to be enjoying this. 

Claude tugs his hand out of his shirt, and still holding onto it, leads Dimitri up the stairs into the staff only section. He’s never been up here before and any other time this might have been a novel experience. Or one he’d be trying to talk his companion out of. None of that occurs to him now. Claude has clearly been up here before as he navigates the rows of bookshelves with ease and leads him into a back room. 

Once the door is open Dimitri wastes no time in pinning him against the wall. He thinks he hears Claude breathe something in a foreign language but he doesn’t care as he leans down over him.

~ ~ ~ ~

Claude isn’t sure how long they’re in the upper storage room of the library. For once he lets himself get lost in the monster that is Dimitri. And while he wouldn’t say he comes undone, it’s not a far cry. His hair is a mess, and his uniform slightly unbuttoned, his face flushed, and his moans and whining have only encouraged the beast prince. 

He could have easily let them get carried away and go too far if it isn’t for the librarians timely arrival. 

“Lord Von Riegan?” Tomas’s wizened old voice floats up to them.

Dimitri’s teeth dig into his collarbone at the sound and Claude hisses an Almyran curse. It’s not the first thing he’s said in Almyran tonight and inwardly he’s glad the prince won’t remember most of this. He pushes Dimitri away with more force than he’s used against him thus far. 

He looks like he’s about to protest, but Claude puts a hand over his mouth. “I know you’re not in the greatest mindset right now, but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay quiet.”

Dimitri’s eyes narrow, but Claude doesn’t have time to talk him down. He’s buttoning his uniform, running a hand through his hair, and striding out of the room with a grin. 

“Tomas! Back so soon?” he asks, leaning over the railing. 

The old man looks up at him, disapproval etched into his wrinkled face. “Now, now young duke, you know the rules. The upper floor of the library is off limits to students.” The admonishment sounds offhanded, and it is, though it’s followed by a warning look. 

Claude laughs easily, and climbs over the railing, dropping onto one of the steps below. Tomas sighs and moves to pick over Claude’s books. “Light reading as usual, I see,” he raises an eyebrow at the one Claude had open, which happens to be a book from the librarian’s personal collection. He then picks up Dimitri’s book and glances around, “Company?”

Stepping forward to take the book and set it aside. “Ah, no. I just needed to reference omething I couldn’t remember the exact dates of the insurrection,. Lysithea and I were arguing about it earlier. Turns out she was right.”

Tomas just nods thoughtfully, taking one last look around the library. He does glance upward, but doesn’t bother to ascend the stairs. “Well, I’m going to turn in for the night. See to it that this finds its way back to where it belongs.” he taps his book on the hidden lore of Seiros. 

“Always, sir.” Claude offers him a reassuring grin.

“And Claude,” that warning note enters his tone, “I’m happy to lend a hand in your pursuit of knowledge. I wish more students were as keen as you. But, my generousity can only extend so far, and I do hope you don’t abuse it.”

Claude winces inwardly, but gives Tomas a solemn nod in response. It’s not the first time he’s taken advantage of the privileges Tomas allows him. Never quite like this, though. He doesn’t want to imagine how furious the librarian would be had he caught Dimitri in the storage closet with him. 

“Good night, Claude.”

“Good night, sir.”

Once Tomas is gone Claude collapses in a chair and breathes. That had been close. Too close. He needs to be more careful about this thing - for a number of reasons, not least of which so he doesn’t get kicked out before he can even accomplish anything

It’s a moment before Dimitri appears, but he comes down looking composed and like himself again. Claude can see the guilt behind his eyes, but the prince holds his apologies at bay for now. 

“I’m surprised he didn’t report you to Seteth.” he says instead. The comment is leading. Dimitri hadn’t missed the familiarity between them and he wants to know more. Too bad Claude invented leading comments. 

“Nah. Tomas hates Seteth.” He shrugs. 

That catches the prince by surprise. “He does?”

Oops. That might have been revealing too much anyway. But what is Dimitri going to do with that information? It’s harmless, just an observation that Claude knows only he has made. No harm in sharing it. 

“He’s never said as much, but it’s there. Subtle. The way he doesn’t quite roll his eyes when he mentions Seteth approving of reading materials. The stiff propriety when they interact. All these little signs.”

“Huh.” Dimitri mulls this over, then frowns. “That doesn’t explain anything.”

“I guess it depends on the type of explanation you’re looking for,” Claude leans back in the chair, tipping it on its back legs. “You just have to ask the right questions.” He lets the chair fall forward and smirks at the prince as he begins to gather the books to put away. 

Silence lapses between them as Claude picks up his research mess. He hadn’t intended to turn in so early, but Dimitri’s presence had turned this night on its head, and Claude doesn’t think he can concentrate on what relics and rarities the church might be hiding after that. 

Dimitri seems to be focused on something in his own mind as he stares blankly at the bookshelves. He wonders how aware the prince is of this other version of himself. He’s at least somewhat cognitive of the change or he wouldn’t feel that guilt of his actions. If he had to take a guess, that’s precisely what his royal highness is doing right this second. 

“Claude,” Dimitri finally says as Claude comes back down the stairs from returning the book to Tomas’ collection, “I should apologize. Tonight was not meant to get so… out of hand. I’m not even sure what went wrong.”

Neither is Claude actually. They had been having perfectly normal conversation and then Dimitri’s mood had taken a 180. The only thing he could figure is that Dimitri had come to the library for a reason, and it wasn’t to converse with Claude. It’s still an incredibly dramatic reaction if that’s the case, so he assumes something else must have been going on for Dimitri to trigger that response. 

He sighs, noting all the books have been put away. “As much as I would love to have this conversation with you right now, it’s late. So maybe let’s shelve it for tonight?” He grins, catching his own unintended pun

Dimitri studies him with a look he can’t discern, then nods. “Very well, another time then.”

In an oddly graceful motion he stands, heading for the door. Claude can’t help but think he said something wrong again. He reaches out and catches his arm as he passes. Again the prince hits him with a piercing blue stare he can’t figure out. 

It’s not often Claude finds himself at a loss for words. There are always words, even if it’s blithering nonsense. For Claude sometimes the meaningless rambles reveal more to him than sincere conversation. But when he stops Dimitri there are no witty sayings or clever quips. He just wants to make sure the prince doesn’t misunderstand him. 

Leaning up he kisses him. It’s sweet, meant to be reassuring, and he doesn’t linger long. He doesn’t want to risk it devolving. 

“Don’t be a stranger,” he says as he pulls back.

This time he can read the confusion in Dimitri’s expression, but he nods. “Good night, Claude.”

“Good night, Your Princeliness.”

He watches the taller figure retreat down the hall and breathes. It hit him suddenly, like the broadside of a sword to his ribs. Does this make them kissing friends? Admittedly he doesn’t hate the thought like he knows he probably should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disaster!Dimitri strikes again, and Claude doesn't know just how to figure him out. Also here Claude has an arrangement with Tomas/Solon. When Solon realized Claude was trying to learn about the church he decided to encourage this endeavor by letting Claude read restricted material in hopes of maybe leading the golden deer leader against the church. Claude takes full advantage of this access. 
> 
> This chapter turned out longer than I thought. Next chapter will be shorter, sort of an interlude. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Thoughts and comments are always appreciated. Thank you~


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